


Overworked, Under Pressure

by silverlysilence



Series: A Hint of Smallville in Gotham [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice, Smallville
Genre: Denial, Gen, Post-Death in the Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-14
Updated: 2016-04-14
Packaged: 2018-06-02 04:06:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6550021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silverlysilence/pseuds/silverlysilence
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During one of Alfred and Clark's weekly meetings, Clark mentioned his missed birthday and things go downhill from there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Overworked, Under Pressure

Alfred gave a curt nod to the waitress of _Gothamite’s Coffestream Café_ who gave him a frazzled smile in turn, gesturing with her head towards the back. He needn’t have to worry about the long line of drenched customers waiting for their first cup of joe of the morning to know his order had already been placed in the decade old POS system. Instead, he focused on sheading his drenched coat and doing his best to make sure his umbrella didn’t dripping too much excess water on the already slick floor. Both articles were put on the back of chair situated at the table in the furthest corner of the café before he took a seat.

“Morning Clark,” the gentleman greeted the occupant on the other side of the table, ignoring the stacks of various textbooks and newspapers in different positions covered with papers and sticky notes sticking out of the pages and an assortment of writing implements scattered about on the table.

“Morning Mr. Pennyworth,” Clark Kent responded between a yawn, momentarily looking up from the textbook held open with his left hand while he took notes in a spiral notebook with his right hand before green eyes diverted back to the text. “I’m almost finish with this, just give me a moment.”

“Take your time,” Alfred reassured the teenager, eying the table and finding the current edition of the _Gotham Gazette_ situated closest to him. Smiling at the thoughtfulness, he grabbed the paper and flipped it open to the front page where a large picture of the Joker in a straightjacket being lead in to Arkham Asylum took up half the cover. It was breaking news, but he had already heard about Batman’s fight with the clown and instead flipped to the next page.

As he read through the business section, a tray with two cups and a pot of tea was placed before him. The waitress poured the perfectly steeped tea into the two cups and placed one in front of each of the table's occupants. Alfred nodded his thanks to the young woman who was kind enough to leaving the pot behind before heading back to the kitchen with her tray.

“Finished,” Clark let out a long breath of air, closing the textbook and setting down his pencil in order to pick up his steaming cup of tea.

He took a sip and grimaced, setting the cup down on its saucer, green eyes began to search the table, lifting scattered worksheets and newspapers before finding the assortment of sugars left on each table. The young man riffled through the limited selection, finding the lone package of honey which he quickly ripped open and squeezed into his tea. Another tasted, which resulted in a satisfied grin, had green eyes looking up and meeting aged blue eyes.

“So, how has your week been?”

“It has been a quiet week,” Alfred answered with a straight face, taking a sip of his own untainted, perfectly brewed tea. It wasn’t even a lie either, there had only been one charity event and two business meetings that Brucie Wayne had to appear at and Batman only had to deal with Catwoman and the Joker along with some low level, everyday criminals. Nothing major.

“And how about your boy? How’s he doing?” The gentleman smiled at the question, hiding the action behind his teacup.

Despite being in Gotham for two months and working part-time at the _Gotham Gazette_ as an intern, Clark was a stranger to the celebrities and figureheads of Gotham. He had no clue who Alfred was much less who he worked for – although the aged man doubted the farm boy would care – but Clark had somehow managed to extract information about Bruce out of the normally tight lipped butler. Talking to the young man was just so easy and a person could forget themselves, letting valuable information slip through their defenses.

However, unlike others, Clark hadn’t come to the conclusion the older gentleman worked for the Wayne Heir. His conclusion was much more innocent. He thought the ‘ _Bruce’_ Alfred was always talking about was part of the older man’s family.

“Fine, fine. He had a small accident, but nothing big,” just a dozen or so stitches Alfred had used to close the gash Catwoman had bestowed upon him as a parting gift during their last encounter. “And yourself? How’ve you been?”

Clark just hummed, shrugging his shoulders and taking another drink of his tea. Green eyes looked everywhere but at the butler.

“Clark,” Alfred’s tone was soft and comforting, yet the young man across from him flinched as if he had been physically assaulted. That had the older man actually taking a good look at the brunet. There weren’t any telltale bags under his eyes, but dark wavy hair was even darker with grease and unkempt as if it hadn’t been washed in days. His clothing was rumpled and dirtier than the normal wear one day would accumulate. Not to mention, there were none of the usual empty plates of food scattered across the table. “When was the last time you’ve eaten or slept?”

Another shrug was all he received as an answer as green eyes focused on the highlighter the teenager was fiddling with in-between his fingers. Alfred didn’t push further though. After dealing with Bruce Wayne – the Emperor of Stubborn – he knew it was best to wait and let the young man come to him. Yet, the longer the silence stretched, the more worried he became and the more his eyes studied the distraught teenager.

Finally, Clark broke. “Did you know that I’ve never really tried at school? Not until recently have I thrown myself into my studies, earning my GED and then gaining early admittance to Gotham U. All to get away from Smallville; to get away from the memories of the meteor shower. I had almost convinced myself that with working part-time on top of the extra classes I’m taking that the only reason I haven’t heard from my parents was because I kept missing their calls.”

He paused, setting down the highlighter with a large crack in its casing and stared down at his work covering the table. “I’m seventeen now. My birthday came and went and I kept waiting for my ma to bring me my favorite pie and wish me a happy birthday. To hear my da telling me about what he got up to during his seventeenth birthday, warning me what not to do before telling me to take the day off and have a good time with my friends.

“But then my birthday came and went and when I didn’t hear from them, everything came crashing back down. They’re gone.  They’re _all_ gone and they’re not coming back. It’s just me now and I feel so very, _very_ alone in this world.”

Alfred felt his heart drop as droplets of water which had nothing to do with the rain outside fell on the table as the young man’s body was racked with silent sobs. He hadn’t realized just how young Clark was. The brunet had appeared to him being so much older and it had nothing to do with his size. Though that did help, but it was the weight he carried on his shoulders which had the aged butler believing him to be in his early twenties instead of a minor; a weight that had finally brought the young man toppling down under his own inner torment.

Making up his mind, Alfred pulled out a fifty from his billfold and placed it on the table. He then made quick work in cleaning up the mess of books, binders, newspapers, and writing supplies, placing them neatly in the abused sack which masqueraded as Clark’s bookbag. That the brunet hadn’t tried to stop him or assisted in cleaning just went to show Alfred how out of sorts the young man was.

Donning his coat, the older gentleman gently pulled the silently sobbing Clark to his feet and quickly guided him out of the café and away from any prying eyes. The teenager didn’t fight him, didn’t even try to take his bookbag from Alfred or at the very least hold the umbrella over their heads. Instead, he let himself be led through the dreary rain and into a vintage Panther De Ville where the butler quickly turned on the heater to fight off the cold chill the storm had brought.  

“Where are we going?” Clark’s wavering voice barely spoke above the pounding rain after about ten minutes of driving.

“I am escorting you to your lodgings where you will take a hot shower and change into clean clothes, preferably something not flannel. Then I shall take you out for a meal as a late birthday celebration,” Alfred glanced over at the young man who was hugging his bookbag close to his body, using it as a shield against the world.

“You don’t have to go through the trouble, Mr. Pennyworth. I’m alright now, just having a bad couple of days and with the stress of the numerous upcoming tests the professors are forcing upon us students before spring break… well, I was feeling just a bit overwhelmed. Besides I have classes to attend and those tests I was talking about to study for and then there’s work and-and you’ve probably already got your own plans for today. I don’t want to be a bother.”

“You’re no bother and it would be my pleasure to accompany you to a late celebration of your birth. As for your classes, I highly doubt missing one day of classes would be a detriment to your grades. I’ve seen your work ethics and would assume you’ve already read ahead. There is nothing you can say which will get you out of this. Now, come along,” the older man quickly put a crease to all of Clark’s worries as he pulled into the small parking lot next to the teenager’s apartment and got out of the car before any more excuses could be brought up.

Alfred popped opened his umbrella and walked around the other side of the car, waiting for the stunned brunet to climb out. Together, the two made their way through the rundown apartment’s lobby before heading up the three flights of stairs – the elevator was broken and it looked like it had been for a long time and would be for an even longer time still – to a worn wooden door which had seen better days. Clark fumbled through his pockets, pulling out his keys and unlocked the door, politely holding it open for the older man.

“Sorry about the mess, I don’t have guests,” the teenager mumbled apologetically, kicking the pile of dirty laundry to the side. “Uh, could I get you anything to drink?”

Glancing at the small refrigerator to the side which would be more at home in a dumpster, Alfred shook his head negatively. “That’s alright dear boy, why don’t you go take your shower and then we’ll decide where to go to eat.”

“Um, alright,” Clark hesitated, setting his bookbag down on the couch with a spring protruding through the cushion before heading over to one of the two doors in the apartment. There was rustling as the young man moved about in what Alfred believed to be the sole bedroom before the sound of another door closing and running water filled the small apartment which gave him time to look around.

The refrigerator he had noted before was actually the best looking appliance in the small kitchenette located in the corner, what with the dripping facet and the microwave which was older than him being the only other items in plain view. Off to the side a card table was set up with two mismatched foldup chairs on either end. The top of the table was covered in various papers and a quick glance showed them to be bills, notices, and warnings all for a piece of property located in Smallville, Kansas.

Across from the card table was a rickety bookshelf lined with even more textbooks than the four currently in Clark’s bookbag. All of them filled with half-finished papers while graded papered where stack in a messy pile underneath a bookend. Not to mention, there were a few dirty dished on the shelves and other than one framed photo of a happy looking older couple next to an astronomy book, there weren’t any personal belongs. Nothing of value.

It was then Alfred realized the sounds of the shower had faded to nothing and he had been standing in silence for far too long. He hesitated for a moment before lightly rapping his knuckles against the bedroom door which creaked open at the light touch to reveal a room hardly bigger than a closet made even smaller by the bed squeezed in the confined space. However, it was what was on the bed that caught Alfred’s attention.

For there, dressed in an ill fitted plaid cotton shirt wearing the same jeans was Clark curled on his side with one sock on his foot and another held loosely in his hand. He was fast asleep.

Alfred wondered how long the brunet had been up to have fallen asleep in the middle of getting dress but quickly brushed the thought aside. Instead, the Englishman reached down to pull the handmade quilt – the only thing of any real personal value he had seen thus far – up over the exhausted teenager before backing out of the room.

There would be time later to get some food in to the young man but for now, Alfred let him sleep. He would be there when Clark woke up. Ready to comfort the teenager over the loss of his parents like he had for an even younger child all those years ago. He would listen for hours as the farm boy talked about Johnathan and Martha Kent and the farm he had grew up on. But that wouldn’t be until Clark woke up, so while he waited, he felt the need to look over those pesky bills and notices stacked up on the card table and sort things out, making life a little less stressful for the overworked farm boy.

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea where I'm going with this. I just needed to write and these are what have been coming out. I blame the fact that I've watched BVS:DoJ and have been on a Batman/Superman/Justice League binge every since. 
> 
> Anyways, I'm basing the Clark off of the Smallville series - but since I haven't watched it in years there will be lots of discrepancies - for the most part along with a few things from Man of Steel. As for Bruce, I'm still debating on if I should be using Bale or Affleck, hence he hasn't made an appearance yet. That, and I don't know if I should continue with the series.


End file.
